


A Whiter Shade of Desert

by Enigel



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, between character study and navel-gazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-18
Updated: 2008-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigel/pseuds/Enigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shep in Antarctica</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whiter Shade of Desert

He waits for the blades of the chopper to still and all noise dies down. It's so silent here, nothing but the soft hiss of the wind. There's nothing living for miles and miles, he chose his landing point like that. It's like in the middle of a desert.

He kneels down and picks up a fistful of snow, then raises his hand, fingers spread.

Snow sticks to his hand, doesn't sift through like sand.

He squeezes the snow and smears it over his face, presses it against his cheek until it melts; cold water drips under his collar.

Sheppard closes his eyes and leans back, sprawls whole on the ground.

"It's just between you and me," he tells the sun, which he feels bright on his closed eyelids.

He could drift into sleep like this, he thinks. He always thinks that when he does this.

He breathes in deep the crisp air. The sharp chill of it stings his nose and his eyes. He loves it.

He checks himself for any lingering urge to just lie there until he banishes all trace of heat from his body. There's still an edge of temptation, but barely there; like it's always been, before Afghanistan, before the army.

He sits up and opens his eyes. Not even the sun's the same here. It's bright, yes, but still cold and crisp and distant. He loves it.

He climbs back inside the cabin, jacket sprinkled with snow. He caresses the chopper's control panel.

"I'm back," he tells it. "I'm fine. Still crazy ole me, but that's just between you and me. I'm fine," he repeats to the window, and smiles.

He knows Antarctica is an exile, more of a punishment than a break from all his worries. He knows no one would believe him if he told them he actually liked it here.

Here, miles from anyone and everyone, he can admit it's the first smile he doesn't fake in months.


End file.
